


Christmas Spirit

by Dragonsmaidan



Series: Ineffable Holiday Prompts [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:01:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21928639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonsmaidan/pseuds/Dragonsmaidan
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale show each other which kind of Christmas music is best.  Who will break first? The angel or the demon?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Holiday Prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564165
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11
Collections: An Ineffable Holiday 2019





	Christmas Spirit

**Three Weeks Ago**

Crowley opened the door to the bookshop, singing. “ _ Think of all the fun I’ve missed. Think of all the fellas that I haven’t kissed.” _

Aziraphale came out from behind a bookcase. “Stop that, please, you know I can’t stand modern Christmas music.”

Crowley grinned and sang a few more bars. “ _ Next year I could be also good. If you check off my Christmas list. _ ”

Aziraphale ignored him and was instead staring at his outfit with a look of distaste. “Crowley, dear, what  _ are _ you wearing?”

“I’m getting in the Christmas spirit.” Crowley twirled. 

“Those are reindeer antlers on your head. And, wait,” Aziraphale squinted. “Are you wearing an actual string of Christmas lights as a necklace?”

“It’s festive! Don’t be a Scrooge, angel, get in the Christmas spirit!”

“I  _ am _ in the Christmas spirit. I just prefer not to make my ears bleed with terrible Christmas tunes. Or,” he scrutinized Crowley again. “Is your clothing blinking on its own?”

Crowley beamed proudly. “It comes with a battery pack!” Crowley pulled it out to show him. “And what do you mean ‘terrible Christmas tunes’? Santa Baby is a classic!”

“Preposterous,” Aziraphale scoffed. “Christmas music is only acceptable if it is performed by an orchestra, choir, or carolers.”

“Carolers. You’re kidding.” Crowley looked at him incredulously. 

“I’m not kidding. They are full of joy. And,” Aziraphale looked triumphant. “There is no bebop in caroling. Caroling is far superior to modern Christmas music. I’ll prove it to you!”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Whatever angel. Carolers are ridiculous.”

**Present Day**

_ “Joy to the world, the Lord is come—“ _

Crowley slammed the door with a growl. He was going to kill Aziraphale or the carolers or both. Three bloody weeks. Every time he opened a door. 

The first time it happened he hadn’t thought anything of it. He’d pulled the Bentley up outside the bookshop like normal and had nearly knocked the lot of them over when he’d opened the door. A large group of carolers. He’d shrugged it off and walked inside without a glance back, not even giving thought to the fact they had all been in the middle of the road. 

Crowley threw himself into the gilded chair in his office and took a deep breath. “What a bastard.” He chuckled to himself. Two could play this game. Crowley got back up and opened the front door ( _ God rest ye merry gentlemen)  _ and pushed through the carolers. He had planning to do. 

—

Aziraphale was going to go mad. He  _ had _ to find the source of the music. It had to be around here somewhere. Did he even have a radio? He’d already checked the gramophone. 

The pop-y Christmas music started playing in the shop five days ago. It had started so softly at first, he hadn’t really noticed it, but it had been increasing in volume every morning to the point it was now almost blaring. 

Aziraphale was on his hands and knees looking for the source under his desk for the tenth time when the bell to the shop chimed. The sound of carolers drifting in barely heard over Wham! belting out  _ Last Christmas _ . 

Aziraphale poked his head up and loudly called, to be heard over the music, “We are quite closed!”

“Are you now?” Crowley came around the corner and leaned casually against a bookshelf. 

“Crowley.” Aziraphale stood and brushed himself off. 

“Aziraphale, I see you’ve decided to get into the modern Christmas spirit.”

“This was not my choice. I can’t find where it’s coming from. I’ve checked everywhere!”

Crowley looked at the  distressed Angel unmoving. “I like it.”

“You would.” Aziraphale said reflexively then narrowed his eyes at Crowley, pieces slotting together in his mind. “This is your demonic work!”

“Whatever do you mean, angel?”

“This infernal ‘pop’ Christmas music,” Aziraphale groused. 

“No,” Crowley said, intentionally playing dumb. “As usual, the humans beat me to it I’m afraid.”

“I don’t mean the music itself, Crowley,” Aziraphale said peevishly. “I mean the fact it is playing in my shop!”

Crowley’s face was still a mask of innocence. “Me?”

“Yes. You. This hasn’t changed my mind. I still stand by what I said weeks ago.”

“Yes, so do I. Carolers are ridiculous and now they are making me ragey.” Crowley pushed himself off the bookcase. “Really, angel, does it have to be  _ every time _ I open a bless-ed door?”

Aziraphale didn’t even try to deny it. “I was trying to prove a point.”

“So am I.” Crowley smiled wickedly and the music in the shop increased in volume. He spoke loudly to be heard. “Good luck with the music, angel. May your increased Christmas spirit bring in more business.” He turned to leave. 

Aziraphale stood flabbergasted for a moment before rushing after Crowley, hand outstretched. “Wait!” Crowley paused, trying to suppress a smile. 

“Fine, you win,” Aziraphale was practically shouting. The music volume lowered but didn’t disappear. 

“I just can’t take this blasted music anymore.” Aziraphale shuddered. 

Crowley turned slowly to face him. “Make the carolers stop.”

Aziraphale sighed and brought his fingers down in a defeated snap. “Done. It was a pretty neat blessing though. If I do say so.”

The pop music in the shop increased again. 

“All right! All right! Crowley, please.”

“One condition.”

“What?”  Aziraphale had a feeling he was not going to like this.

“You have to wear Christmas sweaters, of my choosing, for two weeks. Fair is fair.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes and sighed. “Fine. Better than this music. I can’t even think.”

Crowley grinned and brought his fingers up in a snap. The music stopped. 

Aziraphale sagged with relief. “You know,” he said after a pause. “You lasted longer with the carolers than I thought you would.”

Crowley glared at him with all the malice of a kitten. “Shut up.”

**Author's Note:**

> Day 4 and 17 of the ineffable holiday challenge.


End file.
